A multicultural Avenue
by Yiramy
Summary: The story of Avenue Q rewritten to fit the characters of Hetalia. Complete with France as Lucy.
1. BA in English & It sucks to be me

This was born when I was with two friends 'singing' an Avenue Q song in a chatbox. Then we talked about the imagination having our characters singing it we're playing. And from that..cames this. The Avenue Q story rewritten with other characters. Warning: no serious story.

xXx

A blond, British, old enough to be counted as a man came out of an apartment, sighing. It wasn't the greatest apartment ever; actually, it looked quite cheap and everyone who lived there would probably move out of there as fast as possible. He wore a jeans - with some cuts in it, although it was the 'fashion' nowadays and a green vest, which suited nicely by his just as green eyes. The most striking thing in his appearance were his eyebrows. It wasn't really beautiful or really ugly, it was just very...prominent.

He sighed again and picked up a stone. After throwing it against a tree out of frustration, he sat on the steps on the stairs, all anger gone.

"What do you do with a Bachelor of Arts… in English." He thought there were plenty of jobs, but no. He worked hard, yet was unemployed. "What is my life going to be?" he muttered, asking the question, although there was nobody to answer. "Four years of college… plenty of knowledge have earned me this useless degree." Yes, it was useless. It didn't give him much pleasure since he got the B.A. "And I can't pay the bills yet, because I have no skills yet." Or at least, that's what every employer told him. They didn't want anyone with no experience. At least not one turning thirty-three.

"The world is a big fucked-up place." If he only could change it… but apparently no one thought he deserved the chance to try.

"But… somehow I can't shake the feeling...I might make a difference to the human race." Or not. He was thirty-two and accomplished what in life? Nothing. But he could hope, right.

"Good morning, Arthur."

The so-called Arthur didn't even turn around.

"Hello Roderich," he grumpily answered.

Roderich crossed his arms, debating if he could get Arthur in such a good mood that it was worth a symphony.

"How's life?" First attempt at cheering him up.

Arthur sighs. "Disappointing."

The bespectacled aristocratic looking man walked around him, so he could face the other. "What's the matter?"

At first he said nothing, just handed over a paper. "The catering company laid me off. We're sorry to inform you.. bla bla bla. I'm sick of it."

Roderich looked at the letter. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"How the hell can you be sorry, you're Austrian."

"...pardon?" Roderich asked, certainly not pleased with the other at the moment.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders. "Never mind. Look at me. I'm ten whole fucking years out of college, and what do I have? I always thought…" he finished his sentence in his thoughts. He had such a silly dream. It would never work.

He now had the Austrian's full attention. "You thought what?"

The other shook his head. "No. It's stupid." And it's not like you have any appreciation for anything besides music and cookies anyway.

Attempt two. "No, come on. Tell me."

"Oh. Well.. when I was little I thought I would be..." Arthur stopped, not sure if he could trust the other guy. Sure, they knew each other, but..

"What?" the musician asked, getting impatient.

A writer, just as big as William Shakespeare. But now I'm thirty-two.. and as you can see, I'm not."

"Nein."

Arthur glared at him. Thanks for the 'cheer-up', mate. "It sucks to be me."

Attempt two; failed. "No."

Arthur repeated himself. "It sucks to be me."

So did the Austrian. He could be stubborn as well. "Nein."

"Oh yeah?" He glared now. "It súcks to be broke and unemployed. And worse of all, I'm turning thirty-three. It really sucks to be me."

Roderich sighed. Maybe he could cheer the guy up with telling him one of his own problems. Musicians were so under appreciated.

"You think… your life sucks?"

The scowl on Arthur's face told him enough. It made him think if all instruments got off-key when they get tortured with 'the face of doom'.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Well...your problems aren't so bad." Attempt three.

"I'm a soprano and a really good cook."

Arthur nodded. "I agree." In his head, he could Vash yelling 'don't agree with something you never thought about'.

"Danke. I like cultural things like music and baking." Yes, baking was important business.

"And, as you know, I'm very good at cleaning and keeping things neat. So… I'm asking myself why I don't have a muse yet. All my inspiration is gone. Scheisse. It sucks to be me."

Arthur wondered what 'Scheisse' meant, but he had a feeling it meant something like 'what the fucking Shakespeare'. He also wondered what a muse was, but your inspiration disappearing was a bad thing; for musicians and writers.

"Me too," he finally mumbled.

"It sucks to be me," Roderich said again, trying to cheer them both up.

England stood up, actually feeling a bit better, now knowing it wasn't only his life who was messed up. "It sucks to be me.. it sucks to be Arthur."

"And Roderich," the Austrian sighed.

"To not have a job." Even when it was just a job in a library…

"To not have a muse," the other said. Not having a muse was definitely worse, wasn't it? Although he had some money, in contrary to Arthur.

"It still sucks to be me." He spotted two other people who appeared to live in the neighbourhood, too. "Natalia, Willem. Settle something for us."

The two came closer. The first thing that was noticeable was definitely the height. The man was - how long? If he didn't stand out enough, he wore an orange shirt and a scarf. And… pants as well, of course.

The girl on the other hand had long blond silky hair, just like a barbie and was dressed in a blue dress with ruffles. Just like a barbie. Her personality was everything but a barbie, though.

The woman nodded at Roderich.

"Whose life sucks more? Arthur's or mine?"

They both looked at each other, Natalia and Willem. Such an obvious question required an obvious answer.

"Ours," they said in unison.

"Ve live togeter," Natalia began. She noticed the three men around her all rolled their eyes or tried to hide their annoyance and made a mental note in her head to kill them off in their sleep.

"We're as close as people can get." Or at least, as close as a Belarusian and a Dutchman could get. Which wasn't generally very close.

"Ve're the best of buddies," the girl said again, glaring at her taller… friend.

"Ever since the day we met. We even finish each other's sentences."

Natalia crossed her arms. She hadn't even laughed once. " 'e knows lots of vays to make me really upzet." They all stared at her. Getting her upset was like breaking a Guinness Record. Getting her annoyed was a lot less difficult. "Every day is an aggravation."

The Dutchman was surprised she could even pronounce that word. Still, he had to protest. He wasn't that bad. "Come on, that's an exaggeration."

"You're smoking all the time and I find paint everywhere."

Willem was offended by that. That was dirty. It'll backfire, woman. "And you do such lesbian things like ironing your sash and bow." She actually was straight, and while they both hadn't anything against lesbians, he still liked to poke fun of her. And she sure didn't like it.

"You're very good in making that small apartment we share a 'ell," she answered. At this point, they were ignoring Roderich and Arthur. Who were secretly enjoying all this new information.

"So do you," the Dutch replied dryly. "That's why I'm in hell too." There are worse things though. Like being in a conversation with that stupid Spaniard who wasn't going to show up in this story anyway.

"It zucks to be me," Natalia told the others.

"Nee, it sucks to be me." He got glared at.

Roderich's patience wasn't really all that big and had enough of it. That wasn't the answer they excepted. "Guys, you're not the only ones. It sucks to be me." It felt good saying that.

"It sucked to be me first," the British blond muttered.

"Why sind dir all so joli?" They all turned around to see who it was. It wasn't actually really necessary to turn around; there was only one person in the neighbourhood who kept switching languages in sentences. Elise.

Willem groaned. It wasn't exactly happiness. Just relieved because they were not the only ones without a dream career and sex partner.

"Because our lifes suck, Elise," he explained in a duh-manner.

She laughed. "Your lifes suck? I heard you correctly? Ha. Let me tell jullie something." She put her hands on her hips, looking at the other four. "I came to Groot-Brittannië for opportunities. I tried to work in a Flemish restaurant, but I'm a Belgian." At this she got glanced at. Willem actually knew about Belgium and Flanders was a province within that country? Elise was talking nonsense. As usual.

"Aber with hard work I earned two master degrees in socialistic wo - I mean social work! I'm a therapist now, I'm so proud of mezelf…" Her grin faded away. "Only… I have no clients." She then walked up to Arthur, only to give him a slap in the face. The other three tried not to laugh at that, although they failed miserably.

Elise pointed at the British man. "Worse than that, I have an unemployed fiancee. And we have a lot of projets de loi to pay!" She looked at the others, hands again resting on her hips.

"So I think it's safe to say… it sucks to be me! Suck, suck, suck, suck, suck, suc - "

Her fiancee sighed. She was so good at overacting things like this.

"It sucks to be me," she finished. Strangely, they all felt a bit better when they heard each other's stories. Two in distress makes sorrow less. Five in distress make - wait, that's too much math for me.

"..excuse me."

This was an unknown voice. Arthur was the first to notice him. He was of an average height, his hair blonde and a.. cross pin in his hair? So girlish.

"Hey there."

The stranger looked at him and decided they were probably inhabitants of this neighbourhood. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm looking for a place to live."

They all looked at him as if he suddenly turned into a purple penguin. His question wasn't that weird, was it? Elise was the one to speak first.

"Why are you looking here? I mean…"

The blond man looked at her and sighed. "Well, I started at Avenue A… but everything there was so expensive. So far this is the first one that's cheap enough for me."

Natalia looked at him intensely. Thanks for reminding us we're living in cheap apartments. I already like you so much.

The stranger noticed the stare and sent her a stare back. No one dared to interrupt the staring contest they both were holding, until Arthur realised the strange man had asked something. "You need to talk to the superintendent. Let me get him."

He got a nod back. "Takk."

"Alfred! If you don't come this minute, I'll set your comic books on fire!"

"What? I'm coming!"

The stranger stared at their superintendent, who wore a cheerfully grin on his face. He also looked like he had too much sugar. But he knew that man.

"Oh the trolls…you're Alfred Jones?"

A flashing smile, a thumbs-up and a weird Japanese superhero like pose confirmed that.

"Yes I am!" He grinned at his audience. "I'm Alfred Jones, from that television show Weekend Millionaires. I made a lot of money, but it got stolen by my folks." That was not really pleasant, the stranger thought, so why was that man still smiling? Maybe it was one of those optimists…

"Now I'm broke and the butt of everyone's jokes, but yeah. I'm here, the hero! On Avenue Q - " He shut up when he accidentally almost stumbled over an almost invisible person, that appeared to stand behind there all the time.

"Uh, Alfred…I am the…"

The self proclaimed hero didn't pay attention to the man behind him.

The others looked at him. Wow. Impressive."

"It definitely sucks to be you," Roderich commented.

"I feel a lot better now," said Arthur, although his face didn't really show it.

They were such different people from such different places. They had an American, a British and an Austrian. A Belgian, a Dutch, a Belarusian and the one they never really paid attention to. On top of that, it didn't really look like the stranger came from Britain. The whole world represented in Avenue Q. Almost.

"Oh, and it also really sucks when people stopping you to ask you "Where did you get that jacket from?" It gets old." They all stared at Alfred. Where did he actually get that jacket from?

The musician without a muse looked at the newcomer. "You know..on Avenue Q, it sucks to be us."

He immediately got a glare from the Belarusian lady.

"Not vhen ve're together," she said while getting closer to Willem, who just stared at the suddenly interesting clouds.

The Belgian agreed with the other female and smiled at her. "We're together here on Avenue Q. We live her...and our vrienden do aussi! And until our dreams come true..."

"We live on Avenue Q," Arthur finished her sentence rather grumpily. She basically just told him he'd never get out of Avenue Q. His dream was too high for him. Out of reach. But still, there were people who had it worse. Like the American. And he was still cheerful…how did he manage that? His thoughts got interrupted by the newcomer's voice.

"This is real life."

Willem eyed him. "You want real life? Then you're going to love it here." It's sure is like a reality soap on Avenue Q.

"Here's your keys!" A loud noise was heard when the keys made contact with the stranger's head and the blond man cursed in a strange, Danishlike language. He picked them up, looking at his neighbours and smiled.

"Welcome to Avenue Q!"

xXx

Completely necessary dictionary for Belgium. The poor girl can't help it three languages are spoken in her country.

sind dir = are you (German)

joli = happy (French)

jullie = (plural) you (Dutch)

Groot-Brittannië = Great-Britain (Dutch)

aber = but (German)

mezelf = myself (Dutch)

projets de loi = bills (French)

vrienden = friends (Dutch)

aussi = too (French)

And takk is Norwegian for thanks.


	2. If you were gay

Shoot me. I completely forgot to update it on , too. Forgive me :c

xXx

Arthur looked at the newcomer, still grumpy about the fact he got rejected again ánd hit by his soon-to-be-wife.

"So...what's your name?" he asked him. It wouldn't really surprise him if it was a foreign name like Siegfried or Matthijs, although he looked too feminine to be from Germany or from any of the Low Countries. The stranger looked back, still touching his head where the keys made contact.

"...I'm Erik. From Norway."

See? A foreigner after all. "Oh, well, nice to meet you. I'm Arthur." He waved vaguely in the direction of Elise. "And.. this is my fiancé."

The woman smiled sincerely at him and her eyes twinkled when she looked curious at the newcomer, Erik. "My name's Elise." She glanced at her British partner. "And you're so cute... so beau. Ben je single?" She laughed at his confused face before giving him a wink.

She got a stare back. "Yes, I'm single."

Elise subtly pointed to Roderich – or how far pointing 'subtly' went and giggled. "Because you know, he's single too..."

"Elise!" The Austrian didn't like to be teased. And he wasn't looking for a relationship, just a muse...

"That's Roderich, Roderich Edelstein. He's a so-called musician and a selfproclaimed aristocratic gentleman," Arthur told the Norwegian. "He lives in the building, too. We all do."

"God dag."

Roderich straightened his back and answered the greet. "Guten Tag."

The quiet and serene air was quickly disturbed when Roderich was almost hit by a garbage bag that suddenly appeared out of nowhere. How weird it may sound, this sort of events were almost normal in Avenue Q. They just happened to have an albino neighbour, who told everyone he was from Prussia. Which was impossible ofcourse. The country Prussia didn't exist anymore. His name was Gilbert and actually came from southern Germany. He also had a brother Ludwig, but both their appearance and personality were quite different.

The Austrian glared at the albino, who was hanging out of the window. "You were really trying to hit me this time!"

Gilbert laughed it away. "If I really wanted to, the awesome me wouldn't have missed you, ha!"

The guy, who stood behind Alfred Jones all the time, spoke softly. "Gilbert, you can't do that!"

"Goodmorning, Gilbert," Arthur greeted him, being the British gentleman he is. He would probably get a rude response back, or no response at all; after all, that was just Gilbert. He almost got hit by a garbage bag, too.

"I have no time for you. I'm busy with...awesome things. I'm busy." With that, he closed the window and disappeared. The Belgian woman walked up to Erik.

"Hij is een pervert you know..." she whispered. "So don't spend time with him."

The man just stared at her, emotionless. He wasn't someone to show his emotions, if he had any. All those different people... they were pretty interesting, though. The loud Alfred Jones poked him; he realised he'd been dozing off with his thoughts.

"Come one, I'll show you the place around here!" Obediently following him, Erik could hear the Alfred look-a-like muttering.

"Sure, I get to do the administrative stuff once again, eh. Not that you could manage it anyway..."

Alfred ignored him and pushed the Norwegian forward. "Come on! We're very cultural here, it's lots of fun!"

Elise waited until she was sure the two couldn't hear her anymore. Then she nudged the Austrian, who seemed a bit too quiet. A knowing smirk formed on her face. "Sooo...what do you think? Très mignon, not?"

Being the noble and honest man he was, he had to admit it. The new blonde was ...fairly attractive. His hair colour reminded him of a certain someone, but if he just ignored the sad memories of that certain someone, the guy was.. okay. And cute too, actually... "Ah..yes, he is."

Elise's smile grew bigger. "Then go after him! Emotionless guys would appreciate music played by the slender hands of a schöne Frau..."

"I'm not a woman!"

"But then again, he's wearing a hairclip too. You two are perfect."

Before the Austrian could respond, she clapped in her hands and stared at her fiancé. "And you, Arthur. Find a job! Schiet op!"

A sigh could be heard. "Fine, fine..."

xXx

Natalia was happy. She was alone, had this small apartment all for herself and no one who'd annoy her or bug her. No, this was her evening. Now she finally could read one of her favourite books, a book the Dutchman hated; '101 Belarusian ways to get the man who you want'. No one who could bother her. No. Roommate. Ah, how lovely was the silence and how lovely was it to not smell that disgusting stuff he put in his pipe. Who smoked a pipe these days anyway? Ah, the evening couldn't get any better than this.

"Morgen, Natalia."

She hid her annoyance behind her book, although it was clearly heard through in her voice. "Hi Villm."

The tall male glanced at her book, but decided to say nothing about it. She didn't seem to be in a really good mood. Maybe it was time to cheer her up. "Guess what happened with me this morning! First there was a woman..I think she was Polish. whistling and waving and smiling, being all cute... she surely must've thought I'm straight!"

Natalia got confused. "You're not?"

The man ignored her. "Then I met this Italian guy and he did exactly the same! Smiling at me, talking to me..."

"Interesting." Needless to say it was sarcasm.

"He was really friendly. I think hé might've thought..that I was gay..."

The Belarusian glared at her roommate over the cover of her book. "That information iz not relevant. Vhy are you telling me this? I don't care. Vhat..how was the veater?"

Willem grinned at her, although he had no idea what she meant with veater. "So defensive, Natalia..." he teased.

"Nyet! I'm not getting defensif! I don't care about it."She was about to throw her book at him, but that would mean she'd lose the last barrier between her and her oh so annoying roommate.

"It's just that I respect other people's sexual orientation, no matter how and who they are. You too should be able to talk about it, Natalia..."

She cursed in herself when she realised she had no knife near her to throw. Or any other object that would stop the Dutchman from talking like this. "Nyet. No more talk. Conversation is over."

"Ja, maar..." he started, knowing it would piss her off more.

"Over!" she yelled, driven to the edge of sanity.

Instead of being intimidated, Willem just shrugged his shoulders. He walked over to her, snagged her book out of her hands and looked in her furious eyes.

"Goed, goed.. but so you know.. Natalia. If you were gay.. or lesbian, all the same." It earned him a glare.

"That'd be okay, perfectly fine. Everyone is bisexual by default anyway."

Natalia stared and glared at him, after she got her book back he was holding loosely in his hands. What was that idiot thinking? What a nonsense! How could people be bisexual by default if there were asexual people, too? Just ignore him, she told herself. Just ignore him...

"- I'd like you anyway."

What? Was he even clean?

"Because you see, if it were me...I would be free to say that I was gay. But I'm not gay," he said, ignoring her glare and continuing to be annoying. She was just so easy to tease. In fact, a bit dangerous as well.

"Leave me alone, I was reading!" Hiding her face behind her book, she made another miserable attempt at ignoring him. Willem just walked over to her and smirked. Natalia now threw her book at him with all her might and was despite the situation she was in quite pleased. The man got hit full on his nose and one side of the book left a large scratch on his left cheek. It didn't stop him from teasing her, though.

''If you were queer, I'd still be here you know. Year, after year, after year," he paused and glanced at her, smiling still. "...after year, after year, after ye - "

"Point has been made,"came her grumpy answer.

"Because you're dear to me."

"Idiot."

"And I know that you'd accept me too, if I told you today... I'm gay. But, I'm not gay. I'm bisexual from origin and converted to heterotism."

By this, Natalia just glared at him. She was so sick of him, really. He was a nice guy. Sometimes. When he wasn't smoking. Or teasing. Or drinking. Or being the selfish, rabbit-obsessed, and overall stupid neat-freak he usually was.

" - it matter to me what you do with bed with girly guys? I know about that Lithuanian from last week. You know, the one with that long, silky soft chestnut brown hair on shoulderlength and those big worried eyes that looked at you with such an intense scary expression."

"Villm, you're vishing to be buried. Alive."

Just like the other times, 'Villm' ignored her. "If you were gay, I'd cheer and shout hooray. And here I'd stay, I like it here. You can do all you want, I won't get in your way. Do I ever?" Yes, a tiny voice popped up in his head and he smirked. The Dutchman grabbed her hands and pulled her of the couch.

"You can count on me to always be beside you every day – and night, too if you want - "

That earned him a Medusa-like glare.

" - to tell you it's okay, you were just born that way. Just like everyone else was. Everyone is bisexual by default, did you already forget it? As they say, it's just in your DNA Natalia, you're gay."

"I'm not gay!"At this point Natalia managed to get one of her hands free – he had an amazing firm grip on her wrists. She slapped him against his already bruised cheek and let out a small laugh when she saw his cheek turning lobster-red.

He stared at her, hand against his hurting cheek. "...if you were gay."

"Hmpf!"

They didn't speak to each other for the rest of the evening.

xXx

beau = beautiful (French)

Ben je single = are you single (Dutch)

Guten Tag = good day (German)

god dag = also, good day (Norwegian. I hope. xD)

Hij is een pervert = He is a pervert (Dutch)

très mignon = very cute (French)

Schöne frau = beautiful woman (German)

schiet op = hurry up (Dutch)

ja maar = yes but (Dutch)


End file.
